Disrespectful Dan

When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time. --Oprah Winfrey, who attributes it to Maya Angelou

This is a quote I heard recently, and I can say it is one of the best pieces of advice I've ever heard. It is one of my new mantras, actually. I'm going to start following it more often. Starting today.

Last night I had a date with Danger Dan. As you probably noticed from the title of this entry, his nickname is now Disrespectul Dan. We had a great time when we met for drinks last week--I was definitely interested. He was funny and considerate. But ever since then, it's sort of fizzled. The last couple of phone conversations we had were awkward. His cell phone is broken so his calls get dropped. He likes to call me from his garage so there is an echo. He pauses so long between his statements that I'm constantly saying, "Hello? Are you there?" You get the picture--talking with him is a chore. I knew I was feeling uncomfortable about the date because as I was getting ready, I didn't want to wear anything revealing or low-cut. That is a definite sign I'm not super-keen on the date in the first place. So we were already off to an uncomfortable start, in my book.

When we were driving to the restaurant, another driver pulled in front of him. The other driver used his turn signal and switched into our lane as nicely as possible. It wasn't a dangerous driving maneuver, but it was enough to warrant Dan braking slightly. He made a comment under his breath, which I can't hold against him. I probably would have done the same thing. It's what he did next that bothered me: He immediatly turned his brights on and tailed the guy. Yeah, mature. No boundary or anger issues here. I thought, "Cue red flag #1...."

As we were driving to the restaurant, I was explaining my Bigfoot situation to him. I felt relieved when he told me a horrible roommate situation he had once. The bad roommate conned his way out of paying rent for three months. I was enjoying the story...until he got to the part where he "made a bunch of phone calls to try and get even by getting his boss to withhold money from his paycheck." At this point I'm thinking, "What is it with this guy and getting even?? Red flag #2, buddy!"

I'm thinking maybe he is trying to prove to me that he is macho or something, so I try and forget the revenge-oriented behavior. We went to an Italian restaurant and ordered salads and entrees. We talked...and talked....still no salads. Finally our entrees arrived via another waitress. We explained that we hadn't gotten our salads yet. She went back to the kitchen to sort things out. Our waitress returned with our salads, and my date said in a semi-snide tone of voice, "Oh, you can just cancel the salads and bring out our entrees. Forget the salads. We don't want our food to get cold." Keep in mind that I had just told him I used to wait tables and used to hate it when people got their noses out of joint over minor things. Not too bright, is he?

Did you notice he didn't consult me about the salads? Yeah, so did I. Mostly because I wanted to eat my salad. Oh well. We did have a movie to catch, right? Besides, I didn't have much of an appetite, what with my raging cold. So I let it go. (Yes, I know. I should have said something. I blame my nasal congestion for clouding my judgement.)

So we get our food, and we are talking...and then he interrupts me. Pretty blatantly. At this point, I'm imagining World War II kamikaze planes crashing and burning into aircraft carriers. Yeah, he's pretty much blowing it. He's definitely off the potential smooch list at this point. He is now on the Do Not Touch Me list. All before an hour has passed. This might be a new record...

Dan then told me a story about how he stopped by a friend's house once around dinnertime. Tacos were ready when he got there. He proceeded to sit down and eat his fill ASAP. His friend turns to him and says, "Uh...can you stop? There isn't anything left for my family to eat. We have to make more food, in fact. I said you could have some, not all." Then Dan laughed about how embarrassed he was. Then he proceeds to help himself to my dinner. No joke. I want to scream, "Who are you and what did you do with the nice guy I met last weekend???" He just stuck his fork into my bowl, speared a shrimp (of which I had only 5 to start!) and said, "Wow, that's good. Just one more bite...." and then had three more.

Did you notice he didn't ask? Did you notice he didn't offer me a bite of his? Yeah, so did I. He had already eaten all of his, so that wasn't really an option anyway. This date was becoming a nightmare. The thing about it is, I always offer people bites of my food--I'm very generous with it!-- and I was just about to do so when he started chowing down on my dinner. If he had waited a split second, I would not have even been upset. You'd think that my hacking cough would be a deterrent to his sharing my food.

At this point, I really just want to get things overwith. I ask how we are doing on time, since we were about to order dessert. He said we were actually about 45 minutes ahead of schedule. Super...not! So we order our dessert, which was free thanks to the salad fiasco (I was really embarrassed by the big deal he made. I wanted to apologize to the waitress, but my hands were tied). You know what's coming next, don't you? Yeah, he ate all of his dessert, and then ate the rest of my dessert. Again, without asking. I excuse myself to go to the bathroom when the check arrives. He didn't even earn my offer to pay. Why should I? He ate my food and denied me my salad.

I come out of the bathroom to find the table empty. He had already paid and so I had to go wandering around the restaurant looking for him! How about something along the lines of, "Hey, I'll meet you by the front door, ok?" or "I'll wait outside the bathroom for you." Good grief! Couldn't he have waited the sixty seconds it took me to go to the bathroom? It's not like we were late for the movie. Oh, how I wished we were.

We went to the bookstore to kill some time. So we are browsing the new fiction when he says, "Gosh, you sure do know a lot about all these authors." I wanted to shout, "I'm a librarian, you idiot!" and then call a cab and leave. Of course, I didn't. I know, I know. Just let me finish the story.

Usually when you go to bookstores, you are reading lots of book jacket summaries. Silently. Sure, you might share with your companion a really funny book or picture, but only briefly so as to have a good chuckle before going back to your reading. Disrespectful Dan, on the other hand, finds four-chapter excerpts to read to you out loud. He doesn't pick up on the fact that you are trying to read another book. And it was a stupid book--one of those writers who thinks they are hilarious, when really their story makes no sense. This got on my last frickin' nerve. I wanted to slap him. If I wanted to read that entire book as soon as possible, I would buy it. Or at least pick it up! But maybe I was overreacting to this because of everything that had led up to it. (I should add in one other tidbit of info here. I checked out another guy while we were there. This is another sign I'm not into a guy. I didn't even do it consciously, it was just one of those, "Hey....hello, cute bookstore guy! Is he here alone? Dammit, what am I doing? I'm on a date!")

So we go to the movie. As we take our seats, he drops a piece of information on my lap: King Kong is about three hours long. It's almost 9pm when he tells me this. Um, what? That means this movie gets out at midnight? Thanks for the heads up on being totally exhausted for work tomorrow! So considerate of you. The movie wasn't bad. There were some gross scenes and I don't get how a giant crazed monkey can have more humanistic tendencies than some of the human characters, but whatever. I just wanted it to end. I already knew about King Kong--I just had dinner with him. I have a decent attention span, but even I was dying. Eventually, it did finally end and he drove me home. We sat in his truck for a few minutes talking, and he asked me if I'd like to go see a hockey game this weekend. I said sure. (See, the thing is, I wasn't as irritated with him as I am now that it has all sunk in. I know, I know. I'm an idiot. Feel free to berate me in the comments.)

But don't give up hope on me yet!!!! Because by the time I went inside my house, it had all become clear: I have no intention of ever seeing this jerkoff again. This is why: He couldn't even be bothered to walk me to the door. I told him I had to go to bed...I had a nice time...and he just sat there. Ok....I'll just walk myself to the door. I'm just some freight that he has to leave curbside, apparently. So I had to trudge through my front yard in the freezing rain alone, getting my new leather jacket wet. Gosh, how charming. I should have said, "No, no! You stay inside your nice, warm, cozy little truck, Precious! We can't have you all wet now, can we?" Sheesh! Even my guy friends walk me to the door. What an asshole. Doesn't he realize that all smooches take place on my doorstep? Maybe he had already figured out that he had a better chance of getting kneed in the nards!

I hope he catches my cold from eating my leftovers for lunch today!